Franco Franco

Not far from where I live there’s a really large restaurant space on Crown Street. In the almost twenty years I’ve lived in Sydney it’s had at least four or possibly five incarnations. I remember when it was called “Thai Orchid” (or something like that) back in the nineties. I think it was when it became “Yai” that the space was expanded. A few years ago, the cuisine changed from Asian to Italian, as it became “Cafe Sicilia” and more recently, “Franco Franco”. Throughout all of these incarnations, it’s a place I’ve enjoyed going to.

As with “Cafe Sicilia”, “Franco Franco” is “very Italian” with waiters who speak Italian to each other in conversation, and the other week, as I passed I noticed there was a large family party on the balcony celebrating a child’s confirmation. The two blokes sitting to our right tonight also spoke in Italian.

“We should pay with your credit card and we might get a discount”, I joked to my friend tonight (her surname is Italian, with an immigrant family history on her father’s side). For two mains (pasta and veal), an entree (a shared meats/cheese plate), and a fair amount of wine, we spent about $70 each. Although the service was a little slow tonight, and a little bit sloppy in parts, the staff were apologetic and threw in an extra couple of glasses of wine for free. Although we had planned enjoying a tasty desert, there wasn’t anywhere near enough room by the end.

Though born and raised on Widjabul land (Lismore), for the most part this blog is written on Gadigal land (Sydney). I am proud to acknowledge the Traditional Owners of country throughout Australia and recognise their continuing connection to land, waters and culture. I pay my respect to Elders past, present and emerging.